


Through & Through

by dnwinch



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: FINALLY finished this shit, Fluff, M/M, Wedding, based off of that text post I made like a month ago, lil bit of smut but no actual sex, sry, the wedding fic that no one and everyone asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:04:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnwinch/pseuds/dnwinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent got up on his knees to lean down and kiss Damen - a foreign angle for them. </p><p>Laurent retreated moments later, if by an inch. </p><p>“What was that for?” Damen asked.</p><p>“I never thought I’d ever get to have one.”</p><p>“A Veretian wedding?”</p><p>“Any wedding.”</p><p>Edit: I added a scene! I felt as if there was just something missing, so if you read it right after it was posted, it's a lil different now!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through & Through

The first thing Damen noticed as he began to wake was the sweat beading at his hairline.

He stirred in his bed, reaching through the silk sheets for Laurent, only to realize he was no longer there. In his absence, he found only a note.

 

 _I’ve gone to the stables and then to the workshops to continue on our gifts_ _to exchange after the ceremony. I suggest you do the same._ _Or, rather, I suggest that_   _you start yours. It is your tradition, after all._

  _Yours,_   _Laurent_

 

Damen smiled endearingly at the note. Paper in hand, he climbed from the bed to change, putting the note in a drawer.

Moments later, Damen emerged from his chambers, still orienting himself with the palace at Marlas.

 

 

_"Must we be wed at Marlas?” Damen had asked. “It only brings back memories of those awful times.”_

_"Marlas is the mediant between Akielos and Vere. If we are to ever make any attempt of uniting to one kingdom, we cannot be wed at a location showing favoritism to one nation.” Laurent replied._

_Damen sighed. “Couldn’t we just have two weddings?”_

_"You truly wish to go through the process of planning a royal wedding, twice?”_

That had been the end of their conversation.

 

* * *

 

“Damianos!” The man in question turned to find Nikandros bounding toward him. Only Nikandros and Laurent used his given name over Exalted.

“What brings you so far away from the women, Nik?”

“Making sure that you complete your gifts does, quite effectively.”

“Nikandros…”

“Damen.” Nikandros intercepted.  “Your wedding is tomorrow. Have you begun your gifts?”

“Yes…”

“Damen.” Nikandros repeated. Damen sighed.

“I have started them. The blade is nearly done, but it’s the crown that gives me trouble. But also with all of the questions about the type of food and drink I want for the ceremony, plus wardrobe fittings, that damned recitation, the -”

 _“Damen.”_ Damen stopped.

“Yes?”

“I will answer the questions for you. I believe that by now, I know you well enough to answer accurately on your behalf. Right now, I have a meeting with Laurent, but after I will fetch all of the cooks, tailors, even Charls himself, and appease their concerns. You, my friend, must finish your gifts.”

“Nikandros, I can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Luckily for the both of us, you never asked, so I’m going to do it anyways.”

“Are you disobeying the wishes of a king?”

“No, I’m disobeying the wishes of a friend. Now go.” Nikandros smiled at him defiantly as he removed his hands from his hips, pushing Damen away from him.

“Thank you, my friend.”

“You’re welcome, now _go._ ”

Nikandros again pushed Damen towards the doors of the hall, Damen nearly tripping over himself with laughter.

The morning sun reflected itself in Damen’s golden skin, the air brushing against him, his chiton blowing against his thighs as he strode out to the workshop.

A few minutes later, he arrived at shop, the large wooden doors cool beneath his fingertips as the breeze brushed them with frost.

“Hello?” he called. No answer. “Hello?” he tried again. Still silence.

Pleased with his solitude, he strode over to the cabinets containing his gifts to Laurent. Bypassing the blade, he reached for the crown, or rather, what was meant to _be_ a crown. Instead it was a semi-circular shape of branches that poked out in all of the wrong places. Damen plucked an olive from one of the branches and popped it in his mouth. _Productivity_ , Damen thought to himself.

Taking the branches in hand, he moved over to the crafting table, plopping them down. As per tradition, he stripped the branches of their olives (by eating them), and slicked the branches with their oil to bend them. He thought that, despite the struggle of trying to bend the branches, it was not his least favorite part of the ceremony process.

 

_“Why must we do the recitation? It's just words. Actions have more volume than words.” Damen had said, glancing at Laurent._

_"Words bond a man to his actions.”_

_“I’ll never remember it.”_

_“You will.”_

 

Damen still didn't remember it all. As his fingers, far too large for nimble movements, worked at the crown, he found himself reciting the passage over and over again, seeming to make a different mistake each time while fixing the one before it.

By the time Damen added his final touch to the crown, the sun was setting on the horizon over the hills, the warm glow settling the room.

“All done, my friend?” Nikandros’ baritone timbre boomed from the door.

“I think so, finally.” Damen replied as he turned on his stool, a smile on his face.

“Will Laurent look at them and be satisfied?”

“If not, he’ll certainly get a good laugh.” he joked. Nikandros laughed with him, a hearty laugh of sunshine.

“Well come on, it's nearly evening, You should bathe. And perhaps drink, too.”

Damen stood up slowly, laughter coursing through his veins.

“Can I put away the crown first?”

“If you're not afraid that it’ll break on the journey from the table to the cabinet, then go ahead.”

“You're despicable.”

“Come on, you should get cleaned up.”

 

* * *

 

That evening, Damen stood at the bath drawn in his chambers, the scent of lavender invading his senses. The water was a fraction above lukewarm as he stepped in, water lapping against his skin as he settled. As his muscles relaxed, his thoughts drifted back to when the plans for their wedding first began.

 

_Damen’s eyes searched the blue eyes before him as they sat facing each other on their bed in the first sunlight of the morning._

_"_ _What wedding traditions do you have in Akielos?” Laurent asked, glancing down at his lap, a blush appearing on his fair skin._

_"Not many. Akielos is simple. Someone officiates the wedding, the two say that they willfully agree to the union, exchange gifts, and then kiss.”_

_“What gifts?”_

_“Each person crafts two gifts to be given to the other. A dagger, to symbolize trust and a vow to protect the other, and a crown of olive branches to symbolize peace.”_

_“A circlet of twigs?”_

_“It's symbolic!” Damen said through his laughter. Laurent laughed with him, the crinkles at the corners of his mouth becoming more noticeable._

_“Vere is much more elaborate in its traditions.”_

_“Shocking.” Laurent smacked Damen lightly on his thigh, narrowing his eyes, a smirk growing on his face._

_“Interestingly, though, the ceremonies do not differ too much. It’s simply a matter ornamentation.”_

_“How so?”_

_“Well,” Laurent began, shifting his weight on the bed. “The two walk down one aisle from opposite sides first, and they meet in the middle where it pivots into the larger, main aisle. Then they walk down to the altar, adorned in white roses.”_

_“Very romantic.” Damen replied, sarcasm cascading from his tone._

_“Roses in Vere are the utmost symbol of love. White shows purity and honesty.”_

_“So you bash Akielos for its symbolism yet revel in your own?” Laurent smacked Damen on the thigh again, a tight smile at his mouth and in his eyes._

_“At the altar, they dip their hands in a basin of water and wipe their faces as a sort of cleansing. After that, comes the recitation._

_“Recitation?” Damen asked begrudgingly._

_“Each person has to remember a specific poem, of sorts, and each person recites it to the other.” Damen groaned._

_“It isn't the task you think it is.”_

_“You say that having known it from childhood.”_

_“After the recitation,” Laurent continued, “Is the affirmation of consent to the union, they kiss, and then they dine.”_

_“That's it?”_

_“That's it.”_

_“We can do that.” Laurent startled._

_“What?”_

_“We can do that.” Damen reiterated._

_“We could perhaps do something else-”_

_“Laurent. Akielos barely has wedding traditions in the first place. We can exchange the Akielon gifts. But the ceremony can be Veretian. I have nothing against that.”_

_In lieu of words, Laurent got up on his knees to lean down and kiss Damen - a foreign angle for them._

_Laurent retreated moments later, if by an inch._

_“What was that for?” Damen asked._

_“I never thought I’d ever get to have one.”_

_“A Veretian wedding?”_

_“Any wedding.”_

_Damen exhaled before bringing a hand to Laurent’s nape to kiss him again._

_“Damen.” Laurent said moments later._

_“Hmm?” He replied, eyes still shut._

_“What language should the ceremony be conducted in?”_

_Damen opened his eyes and retreated._

_“That's a very good question.”_

_“Perhaps it should be in Akielon to counter the ceremony being heavily Veretian.”_

_“Well, my love, and I say this in all kindness, but I do speak Veretian more fluently than you do Akielon.” Damen stated hesitantly. A beat passed._

_“You’re right.” Damen exhaled._

_“We could have two officiates and make it bilingual.” Laurent stated._

_“That's more trouble than it's worth. Weddings aren't grand events in Akielos. Usually they're small ceremonies with just the two being married with family and close friends. They're intimate, not to be shared with the outside world. The exchange of the gifts is the most important part of the Akielon ceremony. If we have that, and have a large dinner after, Akielos will be fine."_

_“I wish it could have been more Akielon.”_

_“As long as I’m marrying you, it doesn't matter what I’m doing.” Laurent kissed him again._

 

Damen smiled as he emerged from the bath, missing Laurent by his side as he so often was when bathing. Veretian tradition withheld: the two must be separated the day before the wedding. It was intended to make desire for the other person stronger. Damen hated it. But it worked.

He pulled on his nightshirt as Nikandros entered his chambers, carrying two chalices.

“I figured that some wine would help you sleep better.” Nikandros said, extending one chalice out to Damen.

“You figured correctly, my friend.” he replied, taking it.

“Are you nervous?” Nikandros asked, before sipping from his cup.

“For the recitation, yes, but I wouldn't say I’m nervous overall.” Nikandros gave him a look. “No matter what happens, no matter what goes wrong, I’m still marrying Laurent tomorrow, and that is something I could never be nervous for.” Damen smiled, almost somberly.

“To your happiness.” Nikandros replied, raising his chalice.

“To happiness.” Damen replied, raising his own. The two drank.

“Sleep well, my friend. I will see you tomorrow.” Nikandros said after a moment, beginning to leave.

“Goodnight.”

“And Damen?” Nikandros turned from the door.

“Yes?”

“You’ll do well. Your love for Laurent alone could motivate you to drain the seas.” Damen smiled.

“Thank you, my friend.” Nikandros smiled, and left.

Damen drank the rest of his chalice, and settled into bed. He went to blow out the candle next to him, when he saw a piece of paper tacked into its wax.

 

_Damen,_

_I truly hope you find this note. You may not, in which case, a good story would be made._ _I know that I at least wish to be by your side tonight, but tradition holds true._ _Know that I’m thinking of you, and the thought of marrying you tomorrow_ _gives me a feeling so great it cannot be written down or contained._ _I hope you sleep well, for I fear I may not due to not being by your side. Goodnight, my love._

  _Yours,_ _Laurent_

 

Damen’s smile shared Laurent’s emotions in that it could not be contained. Laurent so rarely expressed his emotions verbally, so to express them in a way so permanent, in writing, is a new step, even for him.

He slept soundly.

The next morning, what woke Damen was not the usual nagging sun but the nagging knocking on his door.

“You should eat, your ceremony is just after noon, Exalted.” a servant called from outside his door.

“Come in.” Damen replied, still horizontal.

“I have candied fruits, fresh bread, and wine for you this morning, Exalted.” he said upon entering.

“Wine? Before noon?” Damen replied as he rose to a sitting position.

“It was at Nikandros’ request.” he said, setting the tray at the foot of Damen’s bed.

“A smart man. Thank you, that will be all.” Damen said, dismissing the servant, who left with a turn on his heel.

Eating slowly, Damen savored what would likely be one of his only moments alone for the rest of the day. The thought both plagued and comforted him. He sat thinking of the day’s events: a morning of chaos, an afternoon of tradition, and an evening of celebration - all for a lifetime of happiness. He smiled.

 

He ate all of the fruit and bread in short minutes. Still feeling the weight of anxiety in his chest, he downed the wine in one swig. Just as he returned the chalice to the tray, the heavy wooden doors to his room opened, a flood of servants entering in a flurry of movement.

“Exalted,” one of them began. A woman, with olive skin and dark hair and eyes - Akielon, clearly. All of the servants were.

“May I assist you and draw you a bath, Exalted?” she inquired, motioning to the basin still standing on the other side of the room.

Damen nodded in response, some lethargy in his movement. Whether that was the amount of sleep or the wine, he wasn’t sure. The rest of the servants fled around the room, one taking the breakfast tray, another going to make the bed moments after Damen was out of it.

Standing only in his night shirt, he approached the bath as the servant finished filling it. The wind blew at the hem of his shirt, brushing against his knees. The breeze sent a chill up his spine as the aroma of mint and orange flooded the air around him as he stepped closer to the bath. His favorite scent.

“May I assist you with your shirt, Exalted?” asked the servant. Damen made eye contact with her.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Agnete, Exalted.” she deflected her gaze downward, fixating on the bath.

“No thank you, Agnete. And tell the others to clear the room.” he finished, a small smile on his lips.

“Yes, Exalted.” she went to leave, not before briefly returning his gaze. _Brave,_ Damen thought. He liked her.

The heavy doors thudding shut behind them, Damen exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stripped off his shirt, placing it on the table along the wall before stepping into the bath, smiling at the orange scented candles made from the oranges at the garden in Ios burning around him. He thought of him and Laurent there early in the summer, when Damen proposed. His smile didn’t fade for the rest of the day.

  

* * *

 

What felt like moments but was half an hour later, Agnete walked in again, this time carrying Damen’s clothes for the ceremony.

“Shall I assist you into your wedding clothes, Exalted?” Damen smiled from the bath.

“No, thank you, Agnete.” She smiled curtly, putting his clothes on the table in exchange for his night shirt, and left.

After Damen stepped out of the bath and dried off, he pulled on his chiton - a soft, white piece with a gold wrap around the waist and a cape pinned to his right shoulder. Charls supplied it himself.

Damen stepped out onto the balcony, looking up at the sun. It was directly above him, high in the sky. _Noon,_ Damen thought. It was time.

He left his room into the hallway, almost colliding with Nikandros.

“Damen, I was just coming to get you,” Nikandros started. “It’s time.”

“It’s time.” Damen repeated. They shared a smile.

  

* * *

 

Damen and Nikandros, now on the opposite side of the palace from Damen’s chambers, entered the room that was adjoined to the aisle for the ceremony.

“This is where I leave you.” Nikandros said, hanging by the door.

“So it is.” Damen said with a smile.

"Damen,"

"Hmm?"

“Don’t fuck up the recitation.” Nikandros added, returning the smile.

“Thank you, my friend.” Damen said through a laugh.

“Good luck.” and with that, Nikandros left Damen to himself.

Once the door shut behind him, Damen turned to the rest of the room. It was small, made specifically for weddings in the hall. Laurent would be in the one adjacent to him. There was a mirror, a chair, and a table with wine and grapes on it. On the other side of the room was another door, leading to the adjoining aisles. Damen poured himself a drink and swallowed it in the same amount of time. He didn't drink out of anxiety of being married to Laurent - on the contrary, he drank out of anxiety of the ceremony itself.

He walked over to the mirror, flattening out the wrinkles in his chiton, his bare feet cold against the marble floors - Akielon weddings were barefoot. Within him stirred an abundance of emotions - anxiety, mainly, but below it rested a layer of excitement, joy, and love. So much love. He inhaled through his nose, exhaling slowly through his mouth. At that moment, a knock came from the other door, signaling that it was time. Laurent would have received one at the same moment.

Another breath in and out, and he opened the door, to see Laurent looking back at him.

His hair, recently cut with short hair at his nape, was longer along the sides and back, and longest at the top. The side of his head where his hair parted contained a tight braid that tucked under the hair at the back of his head. He also wore white, though in the Veretian style, but with the sleeves unlaced at the ends - to show the gold cuff that resided there. It wasn’t traditional Veretian style, however: it was more relaxed. The lacing up the middle of his jacket stopped at his chest, the laces hanging loose revealing the fair skin of his clavicle. His pants reached his waist, where they met his jacket. Throughout his outfit was a golden inlay, resembling vines branching out and swirling in intricate patterns. The work was so fine the details were only visible up close, yet the gold stood out enough to accompany the circlet of gold on his wrist. 

Laurent smiled at him. Damen felt the last of his anxieties fade.

Laurent was the one to take his first steps forward, Damen quickly following suit. When they met in the middle, Laurent’s smile traveled to his eyes.

“Ready, lover?” he asked, expression now almost stoic but for his eyebrows, showing the sarcasm, yet also the sentiment.

“I always have been.” Damen replied, grasping Laurent’s hand in his own. Taking their promenade down the center aisle holding hands was neither kingdom’s tradition. It was their own. Damen glanced down at their joint hands, smirking at Laurent’s bare feet. Besides the trial, it was likely the closest to indecent Laurent had ever looked in public, Damen thought.

As they approached the altar, sunlight flooded in from the large windows on either side of the hall. All around them were white roses, and the orange scented candles from Ios. That was Damen’s personal touch. Musicians in the corner played until the officiate motioned calmly for them to halt. The court took their seats.

Now facing the officiate, a member of the new Veretian council, Damen and Laurent halted, hands still together, golden cuffs side by side. 

“I welcome you all today,” began the officiate. “Today is a day of celebration. Today we not only unite two kings, but to kingdoms into matrimony.” The court applauded.

“This ceremony is a unique one, a mixture of both Akielon and Veretian tradition. Together we mix the two nations with respect and dignity, holding true to both kingdoms’ values, while striving to create new traditions that represent one nation.” Damen glanced to his left at Laurent, only to find Laurent looking back. Damen squeezed his hand. Laurent reciprocated.

“As per the Veretian tradition, the two must dip their hands in water and wipe their faces as a cleansing of the day. Please,” he said, motioning to a servant standing off to the side with a wooden basin. He stood below Damen and Laurent on the steps up to the altar, his back to the court. The two turned around, Damen to his left and Laurent to his right, and submerged their hands in the water. It was colder than Damen expected, if not for the warmth of the sun he would have had goosebumps.

The water felt cool on his face, a refreshing chill he didn’t anticipate to feel as good as it did. After he wiped his eyes, he turned to see Laurent with a single drip of water rolling down his cheek.

“This cleansing symbolizes a new beginning for the couple, a new start in marriage, and a new threshold in their relationship with one another. While this union brings two nations together, today we celebrate not just of that union. This day is in celebration of the union of two kings, but above all, two individuals who respect and love each other. While the circumstances of their meeting were not traditional by any means, those circumstances have brought us here today. Two nations becoming one, and two individuals representing them becoming one union. Today, these nations are free of deceit, free of treachery, and all people within these nations are free. Today, we celebrate that.” More applause came from the court.

“In Akielon tradition,” the officiate continued, “Each individual personally crafts two gifts for the other. The first, a dagger, to represent trust, and a vow to protect one another in times of adversity. Please,” he finished, motioning to the two servants on either side of the altar, holding the gifts.

They ascended the dais, giving the daggers to Damen and Laurent, respectively, and left, as Damen and Laurent turned to each other, extending their weapons outward for the other to take.

The one Damen crafted for Laurent was intricate. It was outside of Damen’s comfort zone, as he hadn’t known much of blacksmithing before it was time to create them. He chose an intricate design as that best reflected who Laurent was - intricate, complicated, yet beautiful both despite and because of it. The hilt curved and had a thin, swirling design, shared by the sheath. The blade curved in the opposite direction of the hilt, pointing upward.

As Laurent handed Damen the blade that he had crafted, he examined it, and smiled. It was a simple blade, also made from damascus, with a white hilt and red rings around the top and bottom of it. Damen smiled. He looked up and saw Laurent doing the same. They placed their weapons on their belts, a smile on each of their faces.

“Next, are the crowns made from the branches of an olive tree, to symbolize peace and respect.” The servants returned with the circlets, first giving Damen the one he made for Laurent.

It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. It poked out in odd places, and there may have still been an olive in it, somewhere. But it stayed tied together, and it would do. Laurent looked at it, and laughed with a smile on his face. _Worth it,_ Damen thought. He walked up to Laurent and placed it on his head with a smile. It truly looked ridiculous, but the two reveled in it.

When Laurent held the one that he made, Damen’s heart slowed, if by a beat. Though the circlet itself closely resembled Damen’s, inlaid in it were orange blossoms. Damen smiled, and felt his eyes begin to well. Laurent approached him, and went on the tips of his toes to place the crown on Damen’s head. Coming down from his sort of relevé, he gave a quick smile before backing up to once again face the officiate.

“And now, from the Veretian tradition, the wedding recitation.” As if by lightning, Damen was once again struck with anxiety.

“First, Damianos of Akielos.” Damen turned, once again facing Laurent. He inhaled through his nose, and exhaled slowly out his mouth. He paused a moment, grasped Laurent’s hands, and then he began.

 

“Love is not a choice we make

In this world, to live in one’s wake

 

To love with zeal, with open arms

Is to ask for pain to be granted, to harm,”

 

He exhaled, unaware he was holding his breath. Laurent stroked one of his thumbs against Damen’s hand. He inhaled before continuing.

 

“By openly loving, we risk the loss

That will surely take, at a horrid cost

 

But the risk I take

In loving you

 

Is one I would take

Through and through

 

Even if you died tomorrow,

Even if I were struck with such sorrow

 

I take you now, into my life

With valor, excitement, nothing but strife

 

I vow to you, and for all to hear

To always stand by you, year by year

 

To wed myself to you today,

Is the greatest honor I could ever display

 

For you are the sun,

And I am the moon

 

Shining only because of you.”

 

He recited it flawlessly, albeit nervously. There was no applause after - there only would be after both had finished.

“And now, Laurent of Vere.” Laurent took a breath, quickly glanced at Nikandros, then back to Damen, and began.

 

“Love is not a choice we make

In this world, to live in one’s wake,”

 

Damen audibly gasped.

 

“To love with zeal, with open arms

Is to ask for pain to be granted, to harm,”

 

He felt his face grow gentle, as a smile once again grew.

 

“By openly loving, we risk the loss

That will surely take, at a horrid cost,”

 

_He's speaking Akielon._

 

“But the risk I take

In loving you

 

Is one I would take

Through and through

 

Even if you died tomorrow,

Even if I were struck with such sorrow

 

I take you now, into my life

With valor, excitement, nothing but strife

 

I vow to you, and for all to hear

To always stand by you, year by year

 

To wed myself to you today,

Is the greatest honor I could ever display

 

For you are the sun,

And I am the moon

 

Shining only because of you.”

 

The applause was double what it should have been. Damen squeezed his grip on Laurent’s hands. Laurent squeezed back. Damen felt his eyes begin to grow wet. 

“Lastly, is consent to the union.” stated the officiate. The two turned towards him, leaving their hands joined in the middle.

“Do you, Damianos of Akielos, consent to the union of you and Laurent of Vere?”

“Yes.”

“Do you, Laurent of Vere, consent to the union of you and Damianos of Akielos?”

“Yes.”

“Then by the power of the council of Vere and with the authority of Akielos, I do consent to this union. You are now wed.”

With a fervency as if the next few minutes were uncertain, Damen turned to Laurent and kissed him, with a passion that had been building for what seemed like an eternity. His hands on Laurent’s waist, and Laurent’s hands around Damen’s neck, they kissed, feeling like they had done the impossible. Because through everything that they had been through together, through the corruption, the battles, the uncertainty, their goal was never marriage. Their goal was survival. So for them to be standing here, now as husbands, they truly had been a part of the miraculous.

“How,” Damen started when they broke apart, applause still thundering behind them, “Did you learn to say that?”

“Nikandros.” Laurent replied simply, moving his hands to Damen’s chest.

“So the ‘meeting’ he had with you this morning?”

“Was a last minute session to make sure my vocabulary and translation was correct.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Husband.” Damen saw a streak roll down Laurent’s cheek. This time he speculated it wasn’t leftover water.

Damen kissed him again.

 

* * *

 

 

At night, they ate, they danced, they laughed, and they smiled. 

"You didn't fuck up the recitation!" Nikandros boomed, approaching them with alcohol on his breath later in the evening as Damen and Laurent sat side by side at the front table. 

"Neither did you, so I hear." Damen replied, significantly more sober. 

"No, my friend, that was all Laurent. All I did was correct some of his translation errors and pronunciation troubles."

"Well, he did an excellent job as well." Damen said, hand tightening around Laurent's. 

"He sure did." Nikandros smiled, and then promptly turned and tripped over himself before returning to dance. 

"One last dance before bed?" Laurent asked him.

"I can get behind that. That's not the only thing I plan on getting behind tonight, though."

"And who says you're the one getting behind anything tonight?" Laurent quipped. Damen's face paled. 

"Are you saying..."

Laurent stood up, pulling Damen behind him. 

"I'm saying we should dance."

Damen followed him to the floor where everyone else was dancing, the musicians playing a medium-tempo song, suitable for swaying or for more elaborate movement. Laurent wrapped his arms around Damen's middle, Damen's arms resting around Laurent's shoulders. They stayed like that for a long while, the music transcending them to somewhere else, somewhere else where all that existed was the music and each other. Neither of them lead, they both kept time equally well. They just were there, together. 

"I have a feeling," Laurent began, whispering in Damen's ear while on the tips of his toes, "That you would like to retire for the evening." Laurent finished, moving his hand, palming Damen over the cloth of his chiton. 

"You would be correct." Damen struggled through gritted teeth. 

"Then let's go." Laurent took him by the hand, sliding stealthily out from the crowd, leaving their own party with at most a turned head.

 

 

When they reached their room, Damen turned them around, pinning Laurent against the door with a thud.

"Excited?"

"Eager." Damen said, bending down to kiss Laurent's neck, then his jaw.

Damen took Laurent's wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand, using the other to undo the laces at Laurent's chest. Laurent moaned, head hitting the door.  

 _Thank God for the loose laces,_ Damen thought to himself. In what was likely record time, the front of Laurent's jacket came undone, revealing that he wasn't wearing an undershirt.

 _"Fuck,"_ Damen moaned. Releasing Laurent's wrists from above him, he pulled the jacket apart in a swift motion, taking it off and discarding it on the floor. Hands now free, Laurent unpinned Damen's chiton from his shoulder, sending it straight to the ground. Laurent eyed him up and down, satisfied that Damen was already hard. 

Damen fell to his knees, quickly unlacing Laurent's pants, pulling them down and taking him into his mouth almost in the same movement. Laurent moaned again. 

"Stop." Laurent said. Immediately, Damen backed up. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. 

"Yes, just bed. Now." Laurent said, hair disheveled. Damen smiled up at him, placing his hands on the back of Laurent's knees, kissing the top of his thigh. He rose, grasping Laurent's hand, pulling him to bed. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, after they made love, Damen lifted himself up to his elbows over Laurent, resting on his back.

“Laurent,” he began.

“Hmm.”

“Why did you do that?” Damen asked, face relaxed.

“Do what?” came the reply, lazily.

“Translate the recitation into Akielon.”

“The ceremony was inherently Veretian. I figured that a touch of Akielon would even things out.” Laurent said, simply.

“See, I don’t think that’s true.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t do anything without a real reason.” Laurent chuckled.

“Why did you do it?” Damen searched for the answer in Laurent’s eyes.

“I did it,” Laurent began, reaching up and placing his hand on Damen’s cheek, “To try to make up for the months where you had to defend yourself silently in a tongue that was not yours.” Damen saw the truth in his eyes. He exhaled, leaned down, and kissed him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> HEY I hope you liked it! This whole thing started with me being super inspired by the wedding in Jane the Virgin bc I'm trash for that show and so I made this text post: http://grntaire.tumblr.com/post/147319197046/okay-so-ive-been-thinking-a-lot-about-damen-and 
> 
> So then I decided to write it WOO
> 
> I might add another chapter of how Damen proposed to Laurent at the palace in Ios? I have a whole idea of how that happened so I might write it!
> 
> Also here are the inspirations for their daggers:  
> Damen's for Laurent - http://ancientartsudaipur.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Damascus-Dagger-knife-39-622x350.jpg  
> Laurent's for Damen - http://www.damascusknivesshop.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/53-300x225.jpg
> 
> FUN FACT I guess it's an old tradition for the bride to wear orange blossoms on her wedding day? I didn't plan that I just wanted to stick with the orange blossom theme so go me I guess? Anyways if you made it all the way down through this, THANKS, and I hope you liked it!


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